Speaking of bitch fit, one of the things that put me in such a foul mood this morning was the televised wankfest known as the 84th Academy Awards. In a previous life, I worked at an entertainment magazine that came out weekly, if you know what I’m saying. My former colleagues there had their collective Borg-heads so far up the arses of the industrial-military-celebrity machine that they were constantly awash in pop culture Santorum. Imagine working somewhere where the most important news of the day was what Gwyneth Paltrow wore or ate. Blech.

Half-heartedly watching the Oscars and half-listening to the hyperventilating, breathless faux-reporting of “journalists” reminded me of the ultimate banality of celebrity pseudo-news and made me sad furious about the idiotic state of our culture.

Besides the blatant racism served up as jokes (Billy Crystal in blackface, again! Sandra Bullock mocking the Chinese language!) and the derivative, bland, white-washed vision of America that the Oscars presented to the world, the only redeeming things from last night’s show were: Tina Fey (who is fab) and her gargantuan Audrey Hepburn-inspired hurr did and Bradley Cooper (who is normally just meh) and his sketchy 70s porn ‘stache.

Otherwise, the Oscars made me want to punch everyone in the face because it was a vapid, self-congratulatory waste of time. Stupid stinkin’ Oscars.

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